


Hey Baby (Drop It To the Floor)

by Marks



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Babies, F/M, Manchildren Growing Up, Yuletide, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby + doorstep + Jake Peralta = panic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Baby (Drop It To the Floor)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mardia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardia/gifts).



> Just a little found-a-baby fic with a side of a well-meaning dude growing up a little. :D

So, Jake had a baby.

Like, okay, he didn't _have_ a baby since science hadn't come up with a way for men to carry babies to term, but he was in _possession_ of a baby. Late at night someone left a baby strapped into an infant seat right in front of his apartment door, then knocked and ran away before he could even pause his Netflix rewatch of The Wire to see who was there.

The baby was tiny, like impossibly tiny. She was smaller than some chihuahuas he'd met. But she was peacefully asleep and had a note safety pinned to her jacket.

"I hope this doesn't say you're destined to fight the Dark Lord," Jake said out loud, crouching down to unpin the note.

 _Hello, Officer Jake_ , the note read, _you don't know me but you once saved my little brother from some bullies and I've never forgotten your name. This is my daughter, Isabelle. She's three weeks old. I can't take care of her but I think you can find her a good home. I'm very sorry._

"Oh boy," Jake said, standing up and scratching his head. "Do you like critically acclaimed police dramas, Isabelle? Idris Elba is an amazing actor."

He took the baby, her carrier, and the diaper bag that had been left next to the carrier into his apartment, then winced as someone got shot in the head on the television. He grabbed the remote.

"I think I'm going to go into work," Jake said, looking from the baby to the door and then back to the baby again. "Please don't wake up, please don't wake up, please don't wake up."

*

The baby woke up on the way to the Nine-Nine. Of course she did because Jake didn't know how to strap her carrier into his terrible car and so he had to take the bus, which meant he had to _wait_ for the bus, and also meant he was on the bus with the kind of people who take the bus at one a.m. In case anyone wondered, they weren't the kind of people who appreciated a screaming newborn.

"Get over it!" Jake called over the noise. "Like you've never screamed uncontrollably on a bus before."

Amy had third shift that night, not her usual beat, but she'd been picking up extra shifts after her breakup with Teddy. She said it was because she loved work _soooo_ much. Which she did because she was a nerd, but also because she was one of those people who needed to keep busy after breakups. Jake was not one of those people. Jake was a person who rewatched The Wire on Netflix after a breakup. But he appreciated her brown-nosing in this particular instance.

By the time Jake got to the station, the baby's crying had turned to a piercing, repetitive wail. It was the saddest, worst sound Jake had ever heard in his life, and he'd been with Boyle when he'd heard his favorite Cambodian restaurant was closing down.

"What did you _do_?" Amy said accusingly.

"And a good evening to you, too, Santiago," Jake said.

Amy continued to look aghast and then she started flapping her hands. "Jake, you have a _baby_."

"Excellent deduction, Sherlock!" Jake yelled over the baby. "Please fix it."

"Why would you think I know anything about babies??" Amy's voice was almost the same pitch as Isabelle's now.

Jake shrugged. "Don't you have, like, nieces or nephews or something? Fix it?" he requested again, smiling this time for good measure.

Holt came out of his office and looked from Jake to Amy to the baby and then back at Jake again. "Peralta, you have a baby."

"Great detective work, everyone! Best department in New York!" Jake announced. "I'm so glad I came here."

But Holt was already unbuckling Isabelle from her car seat and gently lifting her up. She was so tiny that he was able to cradle her in one arm. Isabelle's cries slowed a little. He motioned for Jake to hand over the bag, where he dug around until he came up with a bottle of formula. Isabelle rooted around as soon as Holt offered her the bottle, and the kid sucked the whole thing down in a matter of minutes. Then Holt expertly burped her and Isabelle promptly fell back asleep in his arms. Well, arm.

"That was impressive work, sir," Amy said.

"Marry me?" Jake asked, relieved.

"You two in my office now," Holt said.

*

"It seems it's good I stayed late to work on some old case files," Holt said. He lacked his usual gravitas while cradling a sleeping baby. "Now explain where this child came from."

"It's my baby," Jake said. Amy spluttered and choked on nothing. "Wait, wait, no, not _my_ baby, I swear. I mean, I was the one in possession of the baby, not Santiago. Wait, hold up." Jake dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the note that Isabelle's mother had left him. Both Amy and Holt took a look.

"This is kind of sweet, Jake," Amy said. "Someone thought their baby was safe with you because of what a good cop you are. I love that." She smiled at him, and Jake had to look down at his sneakers.

"Yes, good work, Detective Peralta," Holt said. "Under safe haven law, a mother can leave her child with any person she deems fit without fear of legal repercussion as long as the child is under thirty days old. It seems, in this case, you qualified."

Jake shook his head. "I am in no way qualified to take care of babies. What I do have are a very particular set of skills --"

"No Liam Neeson," Amy interrupted.

" _No Liam Neeson_ ," Jake muttered under his breath. "Anyway, yeah, I haven't been around kids since I was kid myself, unless Terry's kids count. And they don't because Terry won't let me play with their toys because of the potential choking hazard."

"You did accidentally swallow Barbie's shoe," Amy said.

" _One_ time. But I can't keep her. There have to be zillions of people looking to adopt babies in Brooklyn."

Holt stood up from his desk and lightly handed the sleeping baby over to Jake. "Santiago, accompany Peralta to New York Methodist where they can make sure the baby is in proper working order and get you in contact with social services."

"Are you sure? What about my shift, sir?" Amy asked. "I'm supervising detective on duty."

"I wasn't planning on leaving for some time. I'll finish up for you."

"Sir," Jake interrupted, "before we go, I have to know in case she starts crying again, _how did you do that_?"

"Babies are simple, Detective Peralta," Holt said. "When my nephew, Marcus, age thirty-one, was an infant, my sister gave me some words of advice. Babies only have four modes: eat, sleep, cry, and shit. If the baby is crying, try to fix one of the other three."

Jake's mouth fell open with delight. "Good advice, sir."

*

At the hospital, the pediatric staff checked Isabelle out and found that she was a very healthy baby girl. Then they began searching local hospital records to see if she had a birth certificate anywhere. Meanwhile, they contacted social services and asked Jake and Amy to wait with the baby until they came. Isabelle woke up and started fussing during the exam, so Jake tried to take Holt's words to heart.

"Well, she just woke up, so it's probably not sleep, and she ate at the station, so not that, either," Jake said, employing his best detective skills.

Amy held up her phone. "The internet says babies this little eat about every two hours."

"Thank you, Detective Google," Jake said. "So maybe it's that or maybe it's --"

Just then, Isabelle screwed up her face and let out a sound that could only be described as 'a Scully-stylez fart noise.' And dammit if she didn't look proud of herself afterwards.

"What does the internet say about that?" Jake opened his eyes wide when the smell hit him. "Jesus, how does that big smell come out of such a small person?"

Amy started to look panicked again.

"What?" Jake asked.

"Well, you know how you asked about my nieces and nephews and babies before?"

"Yeah?"

Amy sighed. "I have twelve nieces and nephews. And don't get me wrong, I love all of them to bits, but I haven't messed with them when they were babies since my oldest nephew peed in my face when I tried to change his diaper. I just took it off and it went," Amy made a little arc gesture with her hand, "and I couldn't stop it. It got everywhere. I haven't even tried to hold a baby since."

"Good news, Santiago, because this is your chance at redemption!" Jake quickly handed Isabelle off to a flailing Amy and started digging through the diaper bag. Amy held Isabelle out at an arm's length while Jake took out wet wipes and a fresh diaper. Heck, it wasn't like he had any experience changing diapers either, but how hard could it be? Take off the old diaper, wipe up the mess, shove a new diaper on, done and done.

*

Twenty minutes later, Jake was furiously scrubbing his hands at the sink in the hospital room's bathroom and an orderly had to come in and change Isabelle's crib sheet. There might have been tears, and they might not have been from the baby. But Isabelle looked happy enough now. Amy had taken her back after Jake finished up, and was now pacing back and forth as Isabelle's eyelids grew heavier and heavier. When the baby's breathing evened out, Amy eased herself into an armchair and rested Isabelle against her chest. Jake dried his hands and came out of the bathroom, catching Amy smiling down at the baby. He couldn't help smiling, too.

"This isn't so bad," Amy said in a quiet voice. "She's so small. Makes me feel bad about the missed time with my brothers' kids. But the nice thing about having seven brothers is someone's always getting someone pregnant." She paused. "That sounded worse than I meant."

Jake laughed. "I knew what you meant. Have you ever thought about, you know, ever having one yourself?"

Amy shrugged. "I don't know. I've always been pretty focused on my career, and you know I want to make captain some day."

"You can do both. Sarge has kids," Jake pointed out.

"If you haven't noticed, there's one pretty significant difference between Sarge and me."

"Yeah, you can bench way more than him," Jake said, and Amy stuck her tongue out. "Okay, fine, maybe it is harder for women in lots of places, but you work for a great precinct and you know we'll bend over backwards for you if you ever decide to do something else while still focusing on your career."

Isabelle snuffled in her sleep and Amy looked thoughtful. "You think?"

"Of course. Everyone loves you," Jake said, hurrying to add, "Who else is going to volunteer to do extra paperwork if you're not around?"

Amy rolled her eyes, but Jake could tell she was happy. "Well, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Have you ever wanted to be a dad?"

"Maybe. I don't know. My dad was pretty crap; I might be, too. But babies are all right." Jake ran a hand through his hair and perched on the arm of the chair Amy sat in. He petted the back of Isabelle's sleeping head. "Sophia and I broke up three weeks ago," he blurted out suddenly.

"What?" Amy exclaimed, then got a panicked look on her face. She quickly glanced down at the baby and whispered, "What? Why? It wasn't, you know." She did a little hand gesture from Jake to herself and back, but it looked weird because of the baby in the way, so it sort of looked like she was accusing the baby of causing Jake's breakup. But Jake knew what she was getting at.

"No, it wasn't. You know, that." This was embarrassing. "She thought we were looking for different things. She, uh, she said I was getting too serious for her."

Amy raised her eyebrows. "Someone thought Jake Peralta was too serious about something?"

"I know, right?" Jake said. He laughed uncomfortably. "As if."

They sat in silence together, and it wasn't one of those comfortable silences where all is right with the world, but it wasn't _un_ comfortable either. Jake just had a lot on his mind and he was never good with thinking about serious things. And as much as Sophia dumping him wasn't due to Amy, he'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit he always loved spending time with her. Once they'd moved past the squalling baby stage, the whole night had been pretty nice. Awesome, even.

"You know it's okay, right?" Amy asked.

"What is?"

"Wanting something more for yourself now than you did ten years ago," she said. "You can't be twenty forever. Who'd even want to be?"

"Me," Jake said immediately.

Amy laughed. "Me too. Sometimes."

"Yeah, sometimes."

Social services showed up just as the sun started rising, after Jake had given Isabelle another bottle and while Amy was changing a diaper without being peed on at all. Jake agreed to come give a statement later that day, and he possibly hesitated a little before handing the baby over. He hadn't been lying earlier; he wasn't ready to be a dad yet. But someday he might be.

Dads could still rewatch The Wire, right?

"Ready to go?" Amy asked, once Isabelle was gone.

"Yep," Jake said.

He grabbed Amy's hand on the way out, and she didn't let go.


End file.
